


Beatdown

by grayorca, YearwalktheWorld



Series: Triverse [12]
Category: Castle Rock (TV), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 10:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18029639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayorca/pseuds/grayorca, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YearwalktheWorld/pseuds/YearwalktheWorld
Summary: AU/Crossover. It’s not all business back on Belle-Isle.





	Beatdown

**Author's Note:**

> Another oneshot of a scene from _Trifecta_.
> 
> Because we love our bois, bratty as they are. This scene is case-in-point why they need a father figure.

“And… that - ”

_Thud._

“Is why you are rated as marginal to deficient, at best, in matters of hand-to-hand combat. And the fact you barely try to anticipate any incoming strikes is why you are where you are now. You follow?”

Nick followed, sure. It wasn't anything he hadn't been told before by Connor, or anyone else. So why did they keep making him do these stupid ‘training’ spars, if they knew he wasn't going to try?

They had engaged in enough of them to determine the sessions usually all ended the same way.

“Yeah…” Letting out a sigh, Nick squinted back up at Connor from his position on the floor, after being knocked down by him - for only the fifth time in the past ten minutes. “I follow.”

Clearly anticipating more of a constructive response, the shorter android only stood and waited. Belatedly, he thought to fingercomb a few out-of-place locks back to their proper alignment. “So, new question: what will it take to convince you these are useful skills for you to have? You can’t always count on Dennis or I being there.”

“I dunno.” Maybe it was bratty, to just be laying on the floor, giving his short, sulky answers to Connor, but Nick gave into the urge to do so anyways. He wasn't having any fun doing these, or letting out any energy the way it did for others. It was more like just being a punching bag who occasionally managed to land his own hit. “I can count on you two, most of the time.”

“ _Most_ of the time,” Connor repeated, but thankfully did not elaborate beyond that. Considering the open expanse that was this small training gym, complete with a rustic boxing square, appreciating the relative privacy they had been afforded presented itself as more of the same, semi-condescending attitude the primary so favored. “Get up, then. And I’ll demonstrate how unrealistic of you that is.”

“Nooo…” Nick trailed off his whine, looking back up at Connor, before stretching out on the floor, arms going up to cushion his head slightly. No way he was getting back up at the moment, not with the possibility he would only be dropped again in a few minutes. “Look, this is how I'm gonna defend myself. Drop to the ground.”

“What? Yield and hope the grant you mercy?”

Typical Connor. The notion of going down without a fight simply did not, and could not, compute in his head.

“Something like that, yeah. I'm just testing out the best strategies.” And being a brat, but that much Connor obviously already knew. It wasn't often Nick got this way, but it irritated their primary to no end when he did so. “Keeping everyone on their toes.”

With a raised eyebrow that only helped his exasperated air go so far, Connor took the matter a step further - and too far - all in the same moment.

Raising one shoe, he unceremoniously stomped on the unprotected torso laid out before him.

“And if they do _this_ , what does your follow-up strategy consist of?”

Reacting automatically, Nick's arms flew back up with some surprise, letting out a squeak as Connor stepped on him, before he wrapped one hand over the ankle over his torso. “Con-nor! Get off of me!”

Knee bent, Connor only leaned into the pinning move. “Not a very convincing argument, Nick. Try again.”

Letting out a wheeze of air that he didn't need, but doing so anyways, Nick tried for a glare up at him, legs kicking up slightly as he started to squirm as much as he could, heels digging against the padded floor. “I'm gonna - record this and show it to Hank if you don't! Get off!”

“Blackmail? That’s the best you can come up with?”

It didn’t matter if Connor was shorter and therefore lighter. He did have gravity and leverage on his side. And ridicule. And evidently not his fill of unintentionally-humiliating his third.

How was this the same android who had talked him out of self-destructing four hours ago, Nick didn’t know.

Like so many other things.

“...Squirm all you want. It’s not going to work.”

“Agh! Get off!” Giving another cry, Nick tried again, even if he knew it wouldn't work, to use squirming to get away from the foot on his torso. It only resulted in his arms and legs flailing while his middle stayed still. “Okay… please? Connor…”

The last version, -51, may not have recanted at all. They would’ve been content to stand there, bent at the waist, elbow draped across his knee, all night if that was what it took to prove their point.

-52 only scoffed. The puff of air ruffled the loose hairs resting against his forehead. “You think whoever attacks you when we’re not around will be swayed by _manners_?”

But he still possessed that belittling streak.

“No…” Taking that as his cue to sulk even more, Nick stopped fighting altogether, instead just crossing his arms above Connor's foot, head tilted to one side so he could pout (sideways) at the floor. “Fine. I can wait.”

So wait they did.

——-

_A few hours later(?)_

——-

“The fuck are - _what_ are you two doing? This is where you’ve been?”

And in those specific poses, yes, Dennis. For the purposes of irreverent narrative humor, they stayed that way. Both of his so-called ‘partners’ were undeniably stubborn in their own rights. Though if asked to their faces, both would deny being as much just as fast.

Still stooped over, none the worse for wear, Connor’s near-predatory glare finally redirected itself at their new visitor. “He refuses to engage.”

“No! He won't get off of me, Dennis!” Nick protested, shifting his own gaze to him as well, head slightly picked up to do so. He began to squirm halfheartedly, as if expecting it not to do anything. “Please, make him get off.”

Picking sides in less than five seconds, Dennis did as directed.

Grabbed, pulled away, dealt a few punches for good measure (easily countering any half-thought-out attempts he made to fight back), Connor found himself kicked across the mat, sliding to a stop on his side.

“What - hey, no- _oomph_. …That was unnecessary.”

Standing between them, Dennis snorted. “Says you. Muleheaded doesn’t even begin to. You would’ve stood on him all night if no one did anything.”

Crawling to cover on his knees behind him, Nick let out a huff directed toward Connor, before looking back up at his protector. “Thanks, Dennis. I even said _please,_ and he wouldn't get off.”

Frowning, Connor only rolled to one side, getting his feet back underneath himself to stand up, straightening his collar and smoothing down his tie in the process. “All things considered, that’s the nicest non-combative fight session you’ll ever endure. Remember it next time you’re in trouble. Your opponent might just give up on grounds of feeling sorry for you.”

“Then the strategy worked, so - ha.”

“How? I never said I was - ”

“ _Before_ you can launch into the next round of nonsensical arguments,” Dennis interjected, turning back to grab the kneeling android by the shoulder, pulling upward with clear intent. “There are reports waiting to be allocated. I’ll assume this isn’t worth mentioning to Lieutenant Anderson if you two enter report mode, starting now.”

By his tone, it clearly wasn’t up for debate. So why bother?

Dennis could lay a logical beatdown on them better than any of their trine alone. Better to not test him on it.


End file.
